


Baby of Mine

by 1wildrose1



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1960311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1wildrose1/pseuds/1wildrose1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family...they were one anyway, weren't they? He didn't need any kind of clarification or proof of that – he certainly didn't need to see Wolfram killing himself over it. Yuuri just hoped that statement wouldn't end up to be literal...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The light had faded hours ago and the air had long since turned cold and dewy. “How long do you think they're going to be?”

 

The boy beside the young king sighed for the umpteenth time, drumming his fingers on the dashboard of the huge black Land Rover that they had bought for this very journey. “I told you – we left too early. They aren't meant to be here for another twenty minutes.” He gazed around the secluded woodland that they were currently parked in – and had been for at least two hours – knowing that the lake that the others would arrive through resided just beyond the layer of trees. “Besides, you're the one who arranged it all. Why are you asking me?”

 

“Because you supervised me when I arranged it and I think we all know who everyone trusts for the right answer.” The king could recall the conversation he had with his personal bodyguard – and unofficial Godfather – Conrad: _“Be sure to bring the Great Sage, Your Majesty.” “Murata? Why?” “This has to go perfectly.” “Gee, thanks for the confidence.”_ _“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but...” “Yeah, yeah – I know. And for the last time, Conrad – to you, it's Yuuri.”_ After all he had done to prove himself as a worthy leader of the Mazoku – even more worthy than the Original King himself – none of his 'loyal subjects' trusted him to complete the most simple task.

 

“Oh, don't pout, Shibuya. You know they respect you, but you haven't been king for ten years yet – they still consider you to be in the probation stage.” Yuuri scowled at his friend and let himself out of the car, lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag. Murata followed and rolled his eyes. “I wish you wouldn't.”

 

“Yeah, yeah – I'm quitting tomorrow. Today has been to long and stressful a day to stop.” He shook his head and crossed his arms against the cold. “I'll be glad when this damn probation stage is over – why can't eight years be enough?”

 

“Be reasonable – ten years is nothing to the Mazoku.” This was true enough, seeing as the average Mazoku lives for near on a millennia, but it didn't make the deal any sweeter for Yuuri, who just narrowed his eyes in response and took another puff on his cigarette.

 

Yuuri didn't want to be constantly treated like a child – he could understand and almost accept such treatment when he was in Shin Makoku, because he technically was a child in Mazoku years, but it even happened when he was on Earth. He had stopped ageing at a human rate the second he accepted his life as a Mazoku at sixteen, making it harder and harder for him to face going back to see his family as the years wore on – they all still saw him as that very same teenager rather than the twenty-three year old that he actually was. Yuuri grimaced at that thought as he inhaled another lungful of poison – maybe that was why he had started to act out by smoking and drinking and taking other less than wholesome substances when he was on Earth: just to prove that he could! But he had to quit, he knew – not only was it completely immature and irresponsible, but he had both Wolfram and Greta coming to Earth, escorted by Conrad and Yozak, and his recent behaviour was not something he wanted them to see. Wolfram, not so much, but he really didn't want to corrupt his adoptive daughter.

 

Sighing, he snubbed out the finished cigarette and turned to Murata. “You want to go meet them? I'll get the boot ready.”

 

Murata just shrugged and made his way through the trees. True to his word, Yuuri moved to the back of the car, opening the boot and shifting his and his friend's luggage around to make room for more as well as space enough to open out the built-in chair for Greta – not ideal, but they could always put their bags on their laps if she wasn't comfortable.

 

When he was satisfied with his work, he leaned against the driver's side door and lit up another smoke, anticipating a long and stressful journey, what with Murata's inappropriate remarks about...things, Wolfram's car sickness and Yozak's patronising remarks. Not to mention the knowing looks he would receive from both Conrad and Greta – those two were just too alike. This was going to be a fun vacation, damn it – he had gone out of his way to rent the most adorable and spacious cabin he could find in the beautiful setting of the countryside of Switzerland after all. Admittedly, it had taken his brother's influence as the Maou of Earth to get such a perfect holiday spot – reminding him that he was twenty-three and had a family of his own to look after, so drop the big brother act and just get him the place.

 

Heh, family...he should really get married before he called them that, but...He shook his head quickly, ridding himself of those thoughts as he heard the others approaching – he couldn't lose focus and give anything away now, especially to those huge emerald eyes he could see glimmering in the bright light from the Rover's headlights.

 

The king grinned to himself and crushed the rest of his cigarette beneath his foot – yes, this vacation was _certainly_ going to be fun...

 


	2. Chapter 2

“...however much you shift around the paperwork and change the laws...” And back out again. Yuuri tightened his grip on the steering wheel, refraining from rolling his eyes so as to keep them on the road. He was on holiday, damn it – why couldn't Murata leave him be? He'd gotten as bad as Gwendal over the last few years as more and more of his memories were restored – apparently, it was his duty as the king's advisor to not leave Yuuri the hell alone.

 

As he had predicted, the journey was frustrating as it was long, with the only redeeming factor being Greta's adorable curiosity keeping Yozak and Conrad at bay while Wolfram explained random facts about Earth to them. The young king smiled at that – his fiancé had remembered everything that he'd told him during their conversations, now having a far more extensive knowledge than even Conrad.

 

Murata paused in his lecture, observing the wry smile on his friend's face – his eyes flickered to the rear-view mirror, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Thinking about something more interesting than me?”

 

“Everything is more interesting than you.” Yuuri's quip held no venom, but a warning – he knew what Murata was getting at. He followed Murata's gaze for a second, seeing the reflected view of Wolfram smiling gently at their daughter, flicking his eyes back to the road just as quick. “I told you – I'm not discussing it here.”

 

“Why not? They're not listening.”

 

“Murata.”

 

The boy beside him smirked and turned away to look out his window, watching the lights in the distance zip by. “Maybe we should have planned this earlier – it's too dark to enjoy the view.”

 

Yuuri shrugged. “That's the point – I want it to be perfect for them. If they saw it all when they're tired from travel, they wouldn't appreciate it as much. Tomorrow, once they've had a good night's sleep, they're going to open their curtains to see the most beautiful sight of their lives.”

 

Murata threw another look over his shoulder. “ _'They'_ , huh? Don't you mean _he_?”

 

Yuuri scowled and lowered his voice another notch to a hiss. “Keep talking, Murata – I swear I'll drive this car into a lake.”

 

The sage snorted and shook his head. “Like you would put him in danger – or your daughter for that matter. Or your Godfather. Or Yozak...” Murata scratched his chin philosophically. “Statistically speaking, it may just be easier to ignore me.”

 

“Or just push you into a lake.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“What are the two of you whispering about?” Wolfram's voice broke through the mounding tension between the two of them – in Yuuri's case, at least; Murata was having a great time – with his sudden question. He leaned forward, hovering with his head between the two front seats.

 

“We were just discussing certain matters that Yuuri will have to attend to once we get there.” Murata gave his friend a pointed look, silently telling him that he'd had enough of him avoiding the issue, all jokes aside. To be fair, they'd been arguing – in a way that only best friends do – about what Yuuri's actions should be in regards to Wolfram for the best part of five years, always resulting in an impasse. That was until the day that Yuuri admitted that he thought of he, Wolfram and Greta as a family – that had just opened up an unavoidable can of worms which he was being forced to deal with.

 

Really, he was grateful to be getting this push – he'd been wanting to do this since...well, since he'd realised that he couldn't care less if they were both guys and noticed that Wolfram was far more beautiful than any woman he would ever meet, and that had been on his eighteenth birthday. Wolfram had gotten him a huge gilded book as a gift and, at first, Yuuri had protested, telling him that it must have cost far too much. Wolfram, of course, had snapped at him, telling him to stop being such a selfless wimp and just open it.

 

Inside had been pages and pages worth of the ten noble family trees and their crests. It wasn't really anything special; just a lot of names – just the Von Voltaires, the Von Christs, the Von Karbelnikoffs, the Von Bielefelds, the Von Wincotts, the Von Spitzbergs, the Von Grantzs, the Von Roshvalls, the Von Radfords and the Von Gyllenhaals. That was what he thought until he got to the double page spread at the back of the book – it was blank apart from three names: Yuuri Shibuya, Wolfram Von Bielefeld and Greta Shibuya. Yuuri had turned to ask Wolfram about it, but the boy just shrugged, seeming a lot more timid than usual. He only told him what it was later on that night, when they were alone. _“I thought that's where our family tree could go.”_

 

Yuuri always felt warm at the memory, remembering it as the first time he realised how much Wolfram truly did love him – he would be lying if he claimed to have fallen head over heels for him that very instant, but he finally understood what it was to love someone so strongly that it surpasses the barriers of gender. The week after, Murata found a picture of Wolfram in Yuuri's wallet and had raved about how the two of them could finally get married and give the country something to celebrate – he was not happy when Yuuri said it wasn't like that yet, just give it time. Yeah...five years later and Yuuri still hadn't found the right time to tell his fiancé how he felt, even though he knew he wouldn't get rejected.

 

“I see.” Wolfram rested his chin on the back of Yuuri's seat, watching the patch of road that was visible in the headlights disappear beneath the car. Suddenly, he frowned, inclining his head towards Yuuri and inhaling slowly. “What's that smell?”

 

Murata snorted in amusement before turning away again to look through the window on his side, giving the two a bit of privacy. Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, taking one hand off the wheel to pull the neck of his shirt up to his nose for a sniff, watching Wolfram's reactions through the mirror. “It's been a long day, I guess.”

 

Wolfram shook his head. “No, that's not it.” He leaned closer, taking in a deeper breath, trying to pinpoint the scent. Yuuri tensed, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets – maybe it was because he had been awake for nearly twenty hours now, or it could be to do with the fact that he had five years of sexual tension under his belt, but that warmth being so close to him sent sparks rushing along his skin, niggling his nerve ends and tormenting his quick-beating heart; much akin to how he would often feel waking up to find the blond practically wrapped around him. He forced himself to concentrate on the road, ignoring Murata's turned up cheeks that he could see from the corner of his eye. “I don't know – it's...smoky?”

 

Yuuri's eyes – if possible – widened all the more. _Ah, crap – caught!_ “Oh, yeah...um...sorry about that.”

 

The ex-prince looked confused. “Sorry? It's nice.”

 

“You think it's nice?” Yuuri lifted an eyebrow at him – did Shin Makoku not have cigarettes? Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen anyone there smoking, so it was entirely possible that no one did. “Do you not recognise it?”

 

Shaking his head, Wolfram looked around the car, his lips pulling up into a small smile as his voice lowered to a whisper. “Yuuri, look.”

 

Yuuri made sure he was driving along a straight road before glancing over his shoulder – the sight made him chuckle quietly. He and Wolfram were the only two awake – assuming that Murata wasn't pretending – and Yozak had somehow ended up leaning into Conrad, his head on his shoulder, while Conrad had rested his cheek atop that bright orange hair. The cherry on top, though, was the fact that Greta had crawled out of the boot at some point and then curled up on Conrad's lap, cuddling his belly. “They look good together.”

 

Wolfram's breath caught, his emerald eyes wide as he bit his lip, trying to sound casual. “I...uh...I thought that you were...you know...not supportive of same sex relationships.”

 

Yuuri's stomach twisted with nerves – well, might as well start now, right? “Um, no, I wouldn't say that. I mean, I used to be like that – immaturity of youth, I suppose. Recently, I've...um...come around.”

 

“Oh...okay.” The blond glanced around again, making sure that everyone really was asleep before leaning in hesitantly, licking his lips nervously. “D-does that mean...?”

 

Yuuri's face heated a little as he cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. “Uh...yeah, um, m-maybe.”

 

Wolfram nodded, pressing his lips together briefly before pressing his cheek against the back of Yuuri's seat again. Over the last eight years, Yuuri hadn't been the only one that matured – Wolfram had learned to control his temper and become more patient. He'd come to understand that Yuuri needed time to mull over big decisions and him yelling in his ear never helped – so, in those situations where Yuuri needed to make a choice, he and Yuuri would just sit together in silence, only discussing it when they were both ready to, and not only when Wolfram was ready to.

 

It was difficult – what with his stomach turning at how huge this all was; after eight years of being engaged, Yuuri was finally considering making their relationship real! – but Wolfram managed to remain in silence until he fell asleep, not seeing the decisive smile creep across his fiancé’s face.

 

_**xXx** _

 

Wolfram frowned in his sleep – something wasn't right. Not dangerous, just out of place. A dim light glowed through his closed eyelids, despite the late hour, and the strong smell of something he didn't recognise permeated the air. Every so often, the sound of someone inhaling, holding their breath, then exhaling very deliberately drifted across his senses.

 

Slowly, his consciousness returned, making him more and more aware of his surroundings – there was not that soft humming sound he had come to associate with the car, suggesting that they had arrived and were now in the cabin, and his skin was being caressed by the softest silk. He opened his eyes slowly to the sight of Yuuri sitting up against the headboard of the bed they were in, wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms and lifting some kind of white paper tube to his lips. Inhale, hold, exhale. A stream of smoke left his mouth, bringing with it another burst of that strange scent – it was different to what Yuuri had smelt like in the car; it was more...sweet? No, that wasn't the right word...he just couldn't describe it.

 

“Wolfram!” The object that Yuuri had been holding was quickly stashed out of sight. “Did I wake you?”

 

The blond blinked and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Hmm? Yes, but that's okay.” He looked towards the window, unable to see the sky through the thick curtains. “What time is it?”

 

Yuuri turned to look at the digital clock on his bedside table. “Half past one in the morning.” He smiled apologetically. “I couldn't sleep – needed to unwind a bit.”

 

“Is that why you're sucking on that white thing?”

 

Yuuri's eyes widened as he coughed in surprise – oh, _do not_ take that the wrong way. He looked to the hand on the side of the bed which Wolfram couldn't see, a white roll-up poised between his middle and index fingers. “You saw that, huh?”

 

“Yes – I smelt it first, actually.”

 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He gave up the pretence and brought it up to his lips, taking another puff. “I've kind of got used to the smell.”

 

The other shrugged and brought his knees up to his chest, noticing that he was now in one of the new nightgowns that he had bought for the trip. He wriggled around a little, feeling the fabric sliding over his underwear, indicating that they hadn't been removed. “Who dressed me?”

 

Yuuri blushed a little and rubbed the side of his face, looking away. “Um, I did. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you, so I carried you in and changed you. Was that okay?”

 

Smiling, Wolfram stared Yuuri's face as he took another puff. “Thank you.” His green eyes followed the path of the smoke Yuuri exhaled with fascination. “What is that like?”

 

Yuuri's eyebrows rose at the question. “It's...nice – really relaxing. I kind of feel like I'm floating, you know?”

 

Wolfram shook his head, a small frown playing on his lips. “Can I try?”

 

The young king bit the inside of his cheek, considering if that would be all right. Maybe it would be fine – after all, he only planned to do it just this once himself, so he supposed it would be okay for Wolfram to try it too. “Okay, but do you know how to take it in?”

 

The blond furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, making Yuuri cluck his tongue, trying to figure out how to do this. Wait...Yuuri grinned internally – his thoughts probably being affected by what was in his roll-up – this was the perfect opportunity to introduce a new level to their relationship. He flicked the ash into the ashtray on the bedside table before moving to lay on his side, facing Wolfram and indicating for him to do the same. When he did, Yuuri shuffled closer to him, liking the way Wolfram's breath hitched at the way they were barely a hair's width apart.

 

“Just breathe in when I blow the smoke, okay? Take it into your lungs.” Wolfram nodded again, seeming to have lost the ability to communicate in any other way than head signals.

 

Yuuri leaned back a little to inhale some of the roll-up, holding it in and returning to his previous position. Taking his thumb, he pushed gently on the corner of Wolfram's mouth, encouraging him to open it. Once it was, he slid the thumb across his bottom lip to widen it all the more. Wolfram's heart pounded an unsteady beat against his chest at the intensity of this moment, unable to look away from the seemingly endless pools of black, even when Yuuri's little pink tongue ran along the seam of his lips to give way for the stream of smoke.

 

As he breathed in, that smoke travelled into his lungs like air, spreading through his senses as though it was a dream. He had expected it to make him choke, like the time when he walked through a cloud of smoke from a fire, but this just relaxed him, making him feel like he was floating, like Yuuri said it would. He didn't realise that he had closed his eyes until he felt a finger against his lips, having to open them to see the playful smile on Yuuri's face, mere millimetres from his own. “Hold it in – let it take over.” Yuuri's voice was so deep and seductive...Wolfram couldn't help but lift his hands and rest them on his chest, needing to touch him. The other's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but soon regained composure as he moved the finger away from Wolfram's lips to caress his cheek with the softest of touches. “Let it go.”

 

He obliged, exhaling slowly, feeling the rush of warm smoke leave his lungs. “Wow...”

 

Yuuri reached behind him, snubbing out the roll-up before settling back, smiling at Wolfram's confused expression. “I didn't make a big one – it ran out.”

 

Wolfram nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, trying to calm his still-hammering heart – Yuuri's hand was still on his face, his fingers continuing to play with the soft blond strands by his ear. This was so different to anything they had ever done – they had kissed a few times, the first being when he had been possessed by Shinou, but they sometimes kissed goodnight when they were in bed together. This, however, was so much different – before, it had been more dutiful in a way; now...there was heat. Never before had Wolfram felt so breathless just by being close to someone.

 

For the life of him, he couldn't remember the transition between staring into each other's eyes to lips clashing together; desperately, demandingly. He couldn't remember when Yuuri pushed his tongue between his lips, pulling his own out to play. He couldn't remember making the moan that made Yuuri growl and start sliding his hand up the back of his thigh, underneath his nightgown.

 

He could, however, remember the small chuckle resounding through the silent room and the tiny butterfly kisses being pressed to his closed eyelids. “...maybe we shouldn't get high next time...” 


	3. Chapter 3

Not so long ago, Yuuri would have freaked out if he woke up covered in unidentifiable substances, with sticky fingers and a very satisfied feeling – especially since he happened to laying next to a naked man. He would have started to panic that he had just spent the night doing adult things with that very same man, even though he wasn't gay. Now, he was mature enough to realise that, despite the fact that it had mostly been drug induced, he hadn't been high enough to excuse his actions – and he didn't want to; he had enjoyed it.

 

Blinking away the morning blur from his eyes, Yuuri sat up, chuckling when he saw the clothes that littered the bedroom floor, clearly having been tossed aside hastily. Carefully, he slid of the bed and made his way to the en suite.

 

The water that came out of the shower head was freezing at first, forcing Yuuri to wait while it took its sweet time warming up – he supposed that that was the drawback of coming to a cabin so far out in the countryside after it hadn't been used for a good few months.

 

In the meantime, he studied himself in the mirror, seeing if this new revelation of being so intimate for the first time had changed him physically. His face looked the same – though his lips were swollen and peppered with tiny bruises – as well as his body: he still looked like that strange merge between the fifteen year old Yuuri Shibuya and his demon form, with long, shaggy black hair and wise, dark eyes. But even Yuuri himself could see the light behind his eyes that had previously been absent – like something or _someone_ had brightened his soul.

 

His tan skin was pale today – not just a result of the morning light streaming through the blinds, but like he was sick – and his shining eyes were rimmed in red and had dark circles marring the skin beneath them. Okay, so getting high was not the best thing for your beauty regime – not that he was planning on doing it again anyway, but it was good to note.

 

Soon enough, the young king's thoughts strayed back to his – _naked_ – fiancé sleeping just a few metres from where he was standing, separated by just a wooden door and some blankets. He didn't know whether or not he should feel guilty for letting Wolfram take some of his roll-up, despite the fact that it was only one puff – he was sure that it affected demons faster than it did humans or half-humans. But it seemed that the blond had enjoyed it – he had certainly enjoyed what happened afterwards – and that had to count for something.

 

Looking back up at the mirror, Yuuri saw that it had started to steam up, indicating that the water had heated up. He stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain shut after him, almost groaning at how good the hot water felt against his skin.

 

He was glad that he had been restless last night because he had already unpacked his and Wolfram's suitcases and put all their toiletries in the bathroom, so he didn't have to search for his body wash and cloth. Flipping the lid, he paused, eyes catching sight of a large bowl-like tub full of a creamy substance on the metal shelf.

 

Smiling, he couldn't resist but to close his own bottle and replace it before picking up the tub, unscrewing the lid and inhaling the scent. That drew a real groan from him and sent jolts straight to his groin. It smelt like Wolfram's skin – all floral and musky, like the flower that was named after him; that made sense, seeing Cheri used extracts from the flowers to make the soap.

 

All he could think of was all that bare flesh that had been beneath his body, in his hands, under his tongue. He found his breath becoming heavy at the memory, inhaling deeply with the pot underneath his nose. He began to relive the previous night, remembering how that same smell had become richer and more intense when it had mixed in with their sweat – the sweat that had made their young bodies slide against each other as they moved, creating even more heat between them.

 

Yuuri couldn't help but lean heavily against the shower wall, taking some of Wolfram's soap in his hand before replacing the lid and pushing it aside. Biting his lip to quell his groans – lest he wake Wolfram in the next room – he closed his eyes and ran his coated hands over his body, dipping a finger into his belly button as he pictured how Wolfram's little pink tongue had disappeared into it.

 

Holding his hands still on his stomach, he concentrated on the feel of the suds sliding slowly down his skin, gathering in the tuft of black hair that preceded his growing erection. He remembered the sight of Wolfram's pale cheeks hollowing as he devoured his shaft whole, moving up and down expertly.

 

His fingers began to roam again, one hand finally closing around the aching flesh that was taut against his belly while the other revisited the places where his fiancé’s teeth and tongue had ravaged in retaliation to Yuuri's actions. Gasping, he picked up the pace, overwhelmed by the scrambled memories of the taste, touch and feel of Wolfram, combined with the images of his beautifully flushed face, framed by those sweat-darkened curls clinging to his skin.

 

The hand that wasn't grasping his need flew to his mouth, muffling the loud moan that tried to escape when the image of the blond's molten green eyes peering up from between his thighs made him squeeze his length as his hand reached the tip. He couldn't take much more – the ghosts of sensations were flashing by faster and faster, keeping in pace with the movement of his hand.

 

Suddenly, the tightness in his stomach released, making him explode into his hand and sink down the wall, his legs now unable to hold him up. He sat in the shower floor for a few minutes at least, catching his breath – out of all the times he had got himself off to Wolfram over the years, it had never been that intense; he supposed it was to do with the fact that he actually knew how it felt now.

 

Finally, he pulled himself up, managing to finish washing himself properly before he began to think of his beautiful fiancé again...

 

_**xXx** _

 

Wolfram felt warm – the kind of warm that surrounded you after waking up buried in thick blankets, making you so comfortable that you never want to get up. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to pinpoint what could have prompted such a good feeling. It took him a few seconds to realise that it was largely to do with the body pressed against his back and the arm slung over his waist – then he remembered the frenzied session the night before. The memories that had escaped him just before he fell asleep flashed through his mind like a erotic slide show.

 

Funny...Wolfram thought that he would be more paranoid about what happened – he thought that he would be...well, himself about it all and think that as soon as the morning came around Yuuri would change his mind again. But he had a good feeling about this – he knew something good would come out of this experience.

 

His good feeling was reinforced when the arm around him tightened slightly, the other arm slipping through the gap between his torso and the mattress in order hug him properly. “Hmm...are you still sleeping?”

 

“Yes...are you?”

 

“Not really.” Yuuri's voice was deep, but not laced with sleep, telling Wolfram that he must have been up a while. Not to mention the damp hair that tickled his cheek when the man behind him reached forward to kiss his jaw. “I've already had a shower.”

 

“Why? It's only...” Wolfram tried to see the digital clock that Yuuri had taught him to read but there was a mound of blanket in the way. “I don't know – what's the time?”

 

Yuuri's deep chuckle rumbled through his ear as his arms tightened even more. “Doesn't matter – we're on holiday.”

 

“What? So we're immune to time?”

 

“For now, yes.”

 

Wolfram smiled and snuggled back into the embrace, enjoying the attention that he'd been neglected of for nearly eight years. A familiar scent drifted into his senses, making him frown. “Yuuri, did you use my soap?”

 

The body behind his stiffened slightly and he heard a nervous cough. “Uh, yeah – sorry about that. I forgot where I put mine.”

 

_Okay..._ “It's right next to mine in the suitcase.” He remembered packing it yesterday morning.

 

“I unpacked everything last night before you woke up.”

 

“Oh...” At the mention of the previous night, Wolfram felt himself flush – he'd acted so bold, milking the moment for all that it was worth because he had felt paranoid at the time, despite being fine now. Maybe it was to do with what Yuuri had been smoking – he remembered his emotions being heightened and exaggerated. Either way...“Yuuri, this is weird. I like how you usually smell. Go find your own soap.”

 

Yuuri whined into his neck. “But I'm comfortable.”

 

Wolfram grinned to himself, turning around in Yuuri's arms and rolling them so that he lay on top of the young king, sliding his knees up the silky sheets either side of his hips. “I need a shower too...”

 

Black eyes sparkled mischievously up at him as his fiancé’s hands ran down his sides, coming to rest on his arse. “Well, I guess I feel kind of dirty...”

 

The blond bit his lip and hooded his eyes, leaning in close so that their noses touched. “Is that so?”

 

All he got in response was a smirk before Yuuri closed the gap between their lips – their first sober kiss as an actual couple. Letting his eyes slip closed, Wolfram relaxed into the kiss, smiling blissfully when Yuuri pushed his tongue into his mouth. He wasn't a fool – he knew who had to be the 'man' as such in this relationship, but there was no doubt who really had the power over whom; the evidence had been shown the night before when all he had to do to make Yuuri moan was look at him smoulderingly and nibble his lip or earlobe.

 

Fingers began to kneed and palm his arse, keeping in time with the slow kiss. Every so often, Yuuri's hands would slide down his thighs, scratching lightly with his blunt nails before moving back up and dipping down further than their original position. Soon, his fingertips were touching the sensitive skin behind his balls, pulling a long moan from Wolfram's throat. “Yuuri...I –”

 

Suddenly, the door flew open, making them snap their heads towards the noise. “Daddy! Papa!” Greta stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at her fathers from the doorway. “Um, breakfast is ready.” With that, she spun around, speeding out the room, slamming the door behind her.

 

Wolfram seriously thought his heart stopped – he was still gawping at where their daughter had been just seconds before. “...um...”

 

“Oh, my God...Oh, my God...” Yuuri sat up slowly, holding the blond in his lap so that he wouldn't fall back. Wolfram nodded numbly, glad that he hadn't thrown the covers off when he'd rolled on top of Yuuri – at least they were mostly obscured. But Greta wasn't young enough to be ignorant to what they were doing. “We...um...she...Not it.”

 

Frowning, he looked back at Yuuri. “What?”

 

The king shrugged. “Not it – that means that you have to tell her about the birds and the bees.”

 

“The what?”

 

“Sex talk.”

 

“Why just me?” Wolfram scowled, getting off of Yuuri's lap. He got up and made his way to the en suite, proudly prancing across the room in all his naked glory. “You're her father too. Besides, no matter how young she looks, she's eighteen years old – she probably knows most of it.”

 

“Yeah, but that's the rules of not it.” Yuuri leaned back, eyeing his fiancé. “It means that the first one to say 'not it' doesn't have to do whatever it is that needs to be done.” Shaking his head, he started to look for some clean clothes to wear. “And, yes, I know that she's not that young – but she's grown up around us in the castle; she's hardly got anyone that she is going to pick it up from.”

 

Wolfram stopped just before he closed the bathroom door, looking back with one brow raised. “Fine – not it.”

 

“You can't do that – I was first.”

 

“Oh, I wasn't talking about that.” Wolfram's lips twisted into a smirk. “Greta has surely told someone about what she saw. You're going to have to tell Conrad and Gwendal just what you did with their baby brother.” Not a second later, the door was shut and locked.

 

Yuuri sat on the bed, stunned and dreading their reactions – Gwendal was going to kill him; Conrad...it was uncertain what he would do. “Touché, you evil genius.”

 

_**xXx** _

 

“I'm never taking that stuff again.” Yuuri had been avoiding everyone since breakfast; Conrad was mad and wouldn't look at him, Yozak mocked him at every chance he got, Greta was uncomfortable and was currently having a long conversation with Wolfram and Murata was smug – perfect holiday indeed. It was the latter who found him first.

 

“Why? I thought you said it was fun.” Murata leaned against the back of the bench Yuuri was sitting on in the large gardens outside the cabin.

 

“Yeah, but it was only an experiment, really. I just needed to relax – not really worth it.”

 

“Not worth it?”

 

“I didn't mean it like that, Murata, and you know it.” He really wanted a cigarette...“I just thought that our first time being intimate would be when we were sober.”

 

“I see.” His advisor pushed off of the bench and walked around to stand in front of the king, studying him seriously. “Did you...?”

 

Yuuri frowned up at his friend, noticing that he had changed to 'Great Sage' mode. “Have sex? No – we got close though.”

 

Relief flooded his features as he rubbed his face and took a seat beside Yuuri, switching back to his normal self. “Good – it's important that you don't before you're married.”

 

“Why?” Yuuri knew that virtue was important to a lot of cultures, but he had never considered himself in one of those cultures. “My virginity doesn't mean all that much to me.”

 

“It doesn't matter too much if _you_ aren't a virgin – it's Wolfram's that you need to protect.” Murata gave him a patient look in response to his confused one. “You know the Catholic religion? Well, Mazoku traditions are similar in some aspects.”

 

“Catholicism? You mean no sex before marriage? Or the weird rules, like you have to read from the bible every day and you can't use birth control?” Yuuri didn't know all that much about Christianity, having grown up in a dominantly Shinto area in Japan – though his own family wasn't really religious – but he'd heard some of the strange rules that the Catholic church preached.

 

“Bingo.”

 

“What about?”

 

“Not the bible thing, but no birth control.”

 

Yuuri frowned in confusion. “Um...okay – I don't think that's a problem, Murata. We're both guys.”

 

“Wolfram's not human, Shibuya – plus there's the fact that he's the King's consort. Why do you think he can only orgasm when you _insert_ something?” Murata wiggled his fingers in the air.

 

Anger flared through Yuuri's mind as he stood abruptly and swirled around to face the sitting man, fire in his eyes. “The hell? How do you know that?”

 

Murata rolled his eyes calmly. “Don't work yourself up, Shibuya. I know because it's the king's duty to rule without weakness and he can't be incapacitated by bearing a child, so his partner's body will crave a child in his stead. Hence, Wolfram would feel the need to be filled in order to conceive.”

 

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his angry stance slowly, but not sitting back down. So...Wolfram could get pregnant? That was...news. He was really struggling to get his head around the sudden changes to the biological laws that he'd known all his life. “This is an uncomfortable conversation...but, wait! What about Cheri? She had Gwendal, Conrad and Wolfram, and she was the Maou!”

 

Murata snorted and rolled his eyes. “She's a woman.”

 

“But you said –”

 

“Do you really want to know all the sex rules of the Mazoku or are you just freaking out that Wolfram can get pregnant?”

 

Damn Murata for knowing him so well. “...I'm freaking out a little...”

 

“As I thought.” Murata chuckled and stood, walking away casually while calling to him over his shoulder. “By the way, there _is_ a lock on your door.”

 

Bastard.


	4. Chapter 4

So much for quitting smoking. Yuuri sighed and rubbed his face with the hand that wasn't occupied with the smoky stick of poison. He'd resorted to hiding behind a large rose bush at the end of the cabin's gardens just to avoid Murata's smugness and Conrad's relentlessness. Sure, he wanted this to happen – but not at sword-point!

 

After Yuuri had finally got himself together and faced Wolfram's older brother, he had gotten the shock of a lifetime when he was told that if he didn't want Conrad to rat him out to Gwendal, he had to marry his baby brother within the month – _“Besides, it's been a long time coming – face up to your responsibilities and at least pretend to be the king you're supposed to be!”_ Even Yozak had shut up after hearing Conrad say such a thing.

 

Yuuri gulped at the memory of the venomous look on his Godfather's face when he tried to say that it was too soon – _“Is that so?”_ Needless to say, the date had been set and they were preparing to leave the cabin three days earlier than planned. Greta had felt so bad that she'd been apologising profusely at every opportunity, despite the fact that both he and Wolfram telling her that it was fine – _“It was going to happen anyway, right?”_

 

Drawing a lungful of smoke, Yuuri glared out across the picturesque scenery – this was supposed to be an amazing getaway full of fun and careless freedom. Instead, it was being cut short in favour of a shotgun wedding. Yes, he loved Wolfram and, yes, he wanted to marry him – but wasn't this a little extreme?

 

He groaned and snubbed out the last of his cigarette amongst the rest of the finished buts on the ground – he'd clean up later. At first, Wolfram had been furious at the idea – this was _their_ wedding and _they_ would have it whenever _they_ chose. It turned out, however, that Conrad was just as mad at Wolfram as he was with Yuuri – it also turned out that Wolfram was just as terrified of the consequences of not heeding Conrad when he was in this mood.

 

But...Yuuri drummed his fingers against the damp soil, feeling the sick feeling of guilt low in his belly – though he tried to hide it, Yuuri knew that Wolfram was excited about this. He'd wanted this for nearly eight years and Yuuri was kicking up such a stink about it...

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri pulled the keys to the Land Rover out of his pocket – having snuck it out of the bowl of keys in the main hallway before he left the cabin – and made his way over to the vehicle. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake to see him – his hiding behind the rose bush being more of a habit than a necessity – so he pulled out of the driveway cautiously, making hardly any noise, and set off down the deserted road into the nearest town.

 

If he was doing this, he was doing it _his_ way.

 

_**xXx** _

 

“Yuuri?” Wolfram's muffled voice was barely coherent through the solid wall between he and his fiancé. “Are you awake?”

 

The young king pressed his ear against the part of the wall where he could hear his voice the loudest. “Yeah, I'm awake.”

 

Conrad had actually made Wolfram move into a separate bedroom – he couldn't ask Yuuri to move because ordering the king around would only be tolerated to a certain extent – and had assured them that if either of them snuck out to see each other at night, he would know. This was getting ridiculous. “Where were you today?”

 

“Avoiding Conrad, mostly.” Yuuri grinned to himself, glancing over to the wardrobe in his room where he had stashed the items that he had bought when he had driven into the small nearby town – Wolfram didn't need to know about them yet. “I kind of hid out in the gardens all day.”

 

A soft snort sounded on the other side of the wall. “ _You_? How bored did you get?”

 

“Insanely.” Sighing, the young king pulled his blanket tighter around himself, having drug it and a few pillows to his spot by the wall. “Hey, Wolf?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip lightly, wondering how to approach this subject – he and his fiancé had been kept away from each other since the previous morning so they hadn't been able to speak about what had happened. By the time that both Yuuri and Wolfram had discovered the shared part of their bedroom walls, it had been very late and neither of them had much energy to talk after being grilled all day about how inappropriate they had been. “How come Conrad is so mad at us? I mean, yeah, I can see why he would be a bit pissed off that we had...you know...because you're his little brother. But he knows that we wouldn't have gone all the way. Even if I didn't know why I should hold myself back, you would have stopped me 'cos you knew.”

 

There was a long pause on the other side of the wall – only light shuffling could be heard as, presumably, Wolfram shifted around. “Um...Yuuri, did Murata go into a lot of detail when he told you about the logistics of...uh...demon...relations?”

 

Yuuri chuckled at Wolfram's slight discomfort. “You can say 'sex', Wolf – I won't break. Besides, you said some racier things yesterday morning...”

 

“Yuuri!” He could imagine the burning blush that would have spread across Wolfram's face at his comment – though he was keen when put in a sexual situation, Wolfram was quite a prude in normal conversations. “You know that's what I meant. Just answer the question.”

 

Still laughing lightly, Yuuri shrugged to himself. “Well, he said that we can't use birth control and that you needed _special attention_ to finish you off, but that's about it.”

 

“Special attention?!” Wolfram – clearly indignant – fumed, muttering something that vaguely sounded like ' _damn pervert sage_ '. Huffing, he seemed to shift around again before continuing. “Anyway...there's more to it, which is why Conrad is behaving the way he is. He's not _angry_ at us, per se – more scared of what could have happened.”

 

“I don't get it still. You knew about the whole 'don't pop the cherry before marriage' thing, so you would have stopped us before it went too far.” Yuuri scratched his chin thoughtfully.

 

A sigh could be heard through the wall. “You have such a way with words. 'Pop the cherry' – how vulgar.” Wolfram shifted again and his voice suddenly came from lower down, indicating that he was now laying down. Yuuri followed suit, pressing his cheek to the cool plaster. “Whatever, the point is that...I wouldn't have stopped you from...going too far.”

 

Yuuri frowned. “Why not? I wouldn't have gotten mad.”

 

Another snort. “You think I'm scared of you? _Please_ , you wimp.” The king smiled fondly at the nickname that used to annoy him so much. “No, I meant that when I'm –” Wolfram coughed, a little uncomfortably. “– less than composed around someone that I am...”

 

“Attracted to?”

 

“Shut up.” Wolfram's voice snapped, clearly struggling to get past his innate shyness when it came to subjects such as this to explain. _I wonder how he got through 'the talk' with Greta_. “And yes, I meant that. Whenever I'm around someone who I am attracted to in a situation like that, I can't say no.”

 

Yuuri sat up abruptly, feeling a rush of an unfamiliar emotion. _Jealousy_. How the hell did Wolfram know that he 'couldn't say no'? Had he...? “Wolf...have you been with someone before?” _Someone who wasn't me..._

 

“What? No!” Wolfram's voice sounded shocked that Yuuri would think that. “No, what I meant is that as your consort, I physically cannot say no to you when we're doing something like that. I would have gotten into a state where I wouldn't see any reason to stop if you wanted to go that far.”

 

“Oh...” Yuuri settled back down, feeling a little embarrassed to have accused Wolfram of sleeping with someone else – _he's a virgin. Duh_. “Hey, is it in the demon sex rule book that I should get insanely jealous over the smallest things?”

 

Wolfram let out a small laugh. “Yes, actually – though there's no 'book'.”

 

“Ah, that's okay then.” Yuuri pressed his hand against the wall. “Hey, we're moving out tomorrow – we need to get up early.”

 

“Yeah...we should sleep.”

 

“I'll lay down the law a bit when we get back – Conrad isn't kicking you out of our bedroom at home.”

 

“Heh, night, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri sighed, wishing that he could at least kiss his fiancé goodnight. They had only just gotten together properly and Yuuri felt like they were being deprived of the initial 'honeymoon period'. Before he realised what he was doing, he found his lips pressed lightly against the wall. He pulled back quickly, grinning like a fool. “Hey, I totally just kissed the wall.”

 

A light laugh. “Wimp.”


End file.
